


A Job for Cyborgs

by thienaultha



Category: Saiyuki, Saiyuki Ibun
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 07:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8196739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thienaultha/pseuds/thienaultha
Summary: On an Earth suffering from pollution, two environmental agents meet.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sekaiseifuku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sekaiseifuku/gifts).



> Written for the 2016 7th Night fic exchange. The original pairing request was Jikaku/anyone.

There was more garbage in the river. 

The body of water split the sprawling city in two, a wide and curving centerpiece, though the water was dark and littered, debris collecting in pockets of tall weeds or hooks in the bank. It matched the state of the city, any bright colors having dulled since the day perpetual haze came. Any decorative pieces available to view were statues, or ornate fences and lamp posts, since flowers were hard to grow. Even then, those stone and metal pieces had been corroded by years of acid rain.

Jouan had sighed and shook his head as he approached the scene down on the river bank. He’d had his fair share of river issues in the years of his work with the Environmental Observation and Revitalization Agency. The organization had started decades ago in an effort to curb the already out of control waste and pollution. Despite the monumental efforts, it seemed the people still warred between attempts to improve, and irresponsibly giving up because it was already a mess.

Jouan stepped down to the very edge of the river to look at what seemed to be a new trash dump. A pile as high as the river’s bank; aluminum and glass mostly. At least on the surface. Who knew what was at the bottom of the murky water, and the smog that had settled in that afternoon made it difficult to see the far bank. The monitor readings in the corner of his left eye had gradually increased, moving into the beginning of the red zone. 

_Air quality: Poor_  
The words blinked above the new pollutant percentages.

Putting aside the readings for now, Jouan held up his company tablet, and photographed the evidence. The E.O.R.A had received several reports of residents witnessing employees from the nearby restaurant carelessly toss the garbage rather than place them in the appropriate containers, and Jouan had been assigned to investigate. It happened all the time, and it was ridiculous. 

"I don't think I've seen anyone as out of place as you, with that hair color. I could see you a mile away." 

Startled, Jouan turned to look, and found an older man stepping down on to the river's bank. He must be a fast old man, since Jouan hadn't seen anyone before making his way down just minutes before. He squinted at the man's dark clothes and caught the glint of the silver badge worn by those in leadership roles among the Collections Department.

"Well," Jouan began, "it goes with these eyes, so I ran with it." The day after he woke up with a bionic eye, he had dyed his hair, the purple as outlandish as the signature red irises the E.O.R.A agents were known for.

"You're right, it does suit you." 

"I wasn't expecting Collections to be here." Jouan turned back to his tablet, filling in remarks for his report. Agents were the head, the detectors and filers, the first in. Those in Collections, with less bioparts and implants, were the hands, the ones clearing away waste and disposing it properly.

"There's a lot of trash dumps here. We're just down the way." 

He looked up from the screen to get a closer look at the man. The most notable part of him was his eyebrows, large and a little long, but well-groomed. So was the man’s facial hair. Jouan placed him in his forties, maybe, though most of his hair was some shade of gray. He was wrapped in dark, draping clothing. “Have you seen anything involving that restaurant?" Jouan gestured to the old building.

"About a half hour ago I saw someone leaving trash out here while my team headed to our pick up assignment."

"Hm." He looked back at his tablet. Having someone from Collections witness the act, sealed fate for the restaurant. "Thank you, ah--your name?"

The old man smiled. "It’s Jikaku."

"Jikaku," Jouan repeated, holding out his hand. "I'm Jouan."

Jikaku clapped him on the shoulder instead of going for the offered hand, then turned back up the bank.

Kind of a strange man, Jouan thought.

 

\----

 

Tobacco smoke filled the bar, and Jouan found it just as irritating as the smog that had settled outside. Grateful that it had just as little effect on him as any pollutant, he pushed his way to the counter where the bartender squinted at him. Surrounded by muted brown and black decor, yellow lighting, and middle-aged men, he exuded the aura of an outsider, no doubt. 

"I’d like to speak to the owner of this establishment," Jouan enunciated over the live music, holding out his certifications, ignoring the sudden attention he’d drawn from around him.

The bartender stared. "…Just a minute." He squeezed out from behind the bar and disappeared into a back room. Jouan waited at the end of the counter, absently fingering the gray collar of his light suit and observing the building. It was a large building with plenty of decent decor, and may have been welcoming without the haze of smoke. It was unfortunate that this place was on his list.

A few minutes later, the bartender returned, looking like a twig next to the man following him. "What is it?" The man crossed his thick arms.

"Are you the owner?"

"Yes." The man sounded irritated. Jouan could appreciate that he hadn’t tried to bail, something that had happened multiple times to him before.

"I’m with the E.O.R.A, we've received several reports linking your business to the increased pollutants in the surrounding districts." Here, Jouan pulled up the photo he had just taken. He glanced at the manager--whose expression had started turning nasty--before opening other photos from the agency’s reports. They displayed as a patchwork of holographs from his tablet. "These are all separate occurrences," he explained. "And having seen it for myself…" He pulled up his clipboard of papers and began scribbling with a mini-pen from his coat pocket. 

The manager turned to his bartender, the disappointment and anger flaring in his face. The bartender was shrinking away, mumbling something about the cooks in the kitchen.

"You don’t get any more warnings." Jouan slapped the notice in the owner’s hands. "You have a week to pay the fine. After that, you may face being shut down, depending on how the case goes."

"Thank you," the manager said, as cordially as possible, considering his employees' grave violation.

"You'll be supplied with extra recycle containers. Please use them. Have a good day."

 

\----

 

Outside the building, Jouan stood at an EV charging station, next to his vehicle, rubbing at his temple while filing his report. His job was just a bunch of headaches, filled with people who should know better. 

A smog advisory popped up on his phone. Jouan scowled and checked the charge on his vehicle’s battery. It was going to be hell getting home. The thick shit could slow traffic for hours, and it was already hard to see the tops of the utility poles that stretched down the street, their power lines faint shadows.

Sounds of shuffling and scraping caught his attention. It was Jikaku, plucking crushed beer cans from the lot into his bag. "How did it go?" He didn’t look up from his work, his graying hair hiding his face well, and with the haze around them, Jouan could barely make out his expression. It looked like a smile. 

Weirdo.

"Hopefully he does what he’s supposed to do and I don’t have to make another trip down here." Seeing his car was fully charged, he moved to unplug the cable.

"Unfortunately, some people just don’t care, or don’t think things all the way through."

"Life won’t get any better if they’re that careless. Look where it’s got us now." He waved at their surroundings, the buildings like ghosts in the smog. 

"Yes, that is true." The man looked thoughtful for a moment, then gestured to Jouan with his grabbing tool. "But that also means there's a reason for people like us."

"Hm. Maybe." Jouan responded. There were only a handful of hundreds like them with bioparts. Considered environmental cyborgs, the technology gave them the ability to neutralize pollutants inside the body.

Everyone with the implants were properly employed by the Environmental Observation and Revitalization Agency. That was the deal, since the world had let the environment go so far. Jouan appreciated his augmentations, they allowed him to do his job. And not having to worry too much about the health issues that threatened them every day, was surely convenient.

"In any case, I have to go," Jouan told him, opening his car door.

"Oh, don’t let me keep you." He then gestured to the bar, cracking a grin. "I’ll keep tabs here."

Jouan rolled his eyes as he sat in the seat. " _Please_ , old man."

He was sure Jikaku was laughing as he drove away.

 

\---

 

The headquarters for the Environmental Observation and Revitalization Agency was up in the hills, out of the way of the city. A large, long building, laid out on several acres. It was a boring, beige building with little decoration aside from the azalea garden that edged the parking lot. The plant fared well even in current conditions, though their colors had been altered over time, the leaves now speckled with red. The building's one impressive feature was its self-sufficiency, having a separate section or building for each department it needed. Each science lab, each office, it was all there.

Jouan sat at his open work space, a small desk and a laptop, a filing cabinet to his right. Most of his work was in the field, but he always started here and ended here, as there was often documents that needed to be settled there at the office. While his data was uploading, Jouan sifted through folders of photos. A lot of them were familiar scenes, trash dumps, water and air pollution, but there was one folder with older photos, from years and years ago.

Those photos were what the E.O.R.A used and supplied to the agents, so they could all know what they were trying to achieve, could know what exactly the world was supposed to look like. It was before Jouan's time, but, looking at them, he wondered if some of the older people, like Jikaku, could remember something similar to this, though maybe that was pushing it. 

Maybe that was why so many had trouble understanding the E.O.R.A's strict rules around the environment, they'd never known anything else. The river was already trashed, what more could hurt? Jouan had never known anything else, either, but he'd always liked beautiful things, and given the equipment and the role, he'd strive for even a little of what those photos showed.

Finishing up, he checked out for his routine biotech exam, quite simple, like walking through a metal detector.

Waiting for his turn, he overheard a couple of the other agents' gossip.

"They said two agents died today. Not in our district, though."

"Wow, really? A shame, do they know the cause?"

"Nope, it's still breaking so they're still investigating. One was on the job, the other wasn't."

"What a shame..."

Weird. Jouan thought of all the ways an agent could suddenly die, letting his imagination run with those simple, terrifying facts. It raised a lot of questions. If they were natural deaths, it wouldn't be department gossip.

"You know what else? One of 'em's eyes were gone."

Oh, ew.

"Eww, that's freaky," the second agent replied.

In actuality, it didn’t seem farfetched, the more he thought about it. Bioparts were worth a great deal, even after being fused and implanted. They could still work, or made to work by the right technicians. The way things were now, lots of people would pay for filters for the human body. Even just to have money.

His turn finally came, and he stepped through the booth. The lasers scanned down, up, and across, then disappeared.

" _Analysis complete_."

When Jouan stepped through the other side, all the results on the screens were in good standing, all portions of his system functioning smoothly. Gathering his things, he slipped away and out the door without speaking to anyone.

Jouan didn't make it back to his apartment until an hour later, the traffic had backed up so much. The smog had only just started to lift when he made it to his parking lot.

His apartment was in a tall, skinny complex, squished against another, separate complex and a small shopping area. The space may have been small, but it was comfortable to Jouan. He'd furnished it well, and in the extra spaces on the shelves were house plants, the kinds of species that could only grow now in the filtered air of living spaces or greenhouses.

Journalists were reporting the two deaths when he turned the television on. They didn’t give a name, weren’t allowed yet, and Jouan turned away, relieved. He may very well have known the victims somehow, and that gave him chills. He crossed over to the kitchen area and stared into the refrigerator, pulling together ingredients for a meal.

A notification came up on his phone as he put on a pot for rice. One of his managers had sent him the case for an abandoned power plant. No one was allowed near it until just recently, and readings showed increased pollution in the area, possibly a containment leak. Jouan accepted the case. It seemed a lot more productive than trying to convince careless people to not litter.

\-----

Jouan arrived at the power plant the next morning with another agent from his office. He'd been notified that a team from Collections was on its way. The plant was large, way too much ground for one agent to cover alone. They'd both come dressed for deep investigation, Jouan having left his flashy suit at home and now sporting plain working clothes--the same Collections used--and knee high boots.

"Hmm, do you want to take the right outside and I'll take the left outside? Before going in." Houmei asked.

"Yeah, whatever." Jouan didn't care, hoping he wouldn't have to deal with Houmei's frivolity. The guy was cute, but also a nut.

Jouan took to the river, edging down to its banks, where the old turbines and exit pipes emptied out. The further he went the mushier the ground became. His feet sank into the grassy mud and he trudged down to the soupy water. Debris floated and came to the surface as he disturbed the water. Looking further across to the pipes, something--a mass, sat just under the surface, the water not moving as nearly as freely. 

Commotion and slamming doors from above let him know Collections had arrived, their large trucks, they sent two-- lined up next the building. Sometimes Jouan found it hard to believe that the asphalt or concrete had never cracked under the pressure of the vehicles, their mass so great. They were large, similar to old garbage collectors but equipped with far more gear and larger, multiple containment units for different wastes. He'd never really bothered to look too closely at them. They weren't beautiful by any means, and when loaded, had a stench foul enough to smell yards away.

He took note of the suspicious section of river before trudging back up to meet with the collectors. Doing his best to look crisp and professional, he shook and scraped his feet across the ground before approaching, knocking as much dirt and mud off as he could. He walked around to the driver's side, and the first person he'd seen was stepping back out of the cab.

It was Jikaku, and Jouan was actually surprised to see him a second time, so soon. Jikaku turned, and smiled when he realized it was Jouan standing there. "So, we meet again!"

Unsure how he felt, Jouan made a noncommittal sound.

"What can we help with?"

"One of my other agents is scouting the west side environment, I was down by the river. There's something in the water."

Jikaku stroked his chin, his fingers feeling for the ends of his long mustache, then reached into his truck, pulling out a large fishing net and a bucket. Dressed in heavy duty clothes and boots, they headed back down, after giving instruction to the remaining team. 

Jikaku waded down into the river, just below his knees, feet away from the mass in question. He observed their surroundings before casting the bright orange net into the water. Jouan was several feet behind him, near the rocks at the pipes, gathering water samples and writing the readings he picked up from the area. He watched Jikaku pull the net in, having secured a part of the debris. His strong arms moved in a rhythm, reach and pull, reach and pull, reach and pull... Suddenly realizing he'd been ogling someone's arms for several minutes, Jouan stuck his nose back down to his tablet and continued the report, until Jikaku spoke.

"It's looking like wildlife." He sounded apprehensive.

Jouan waded down to Jikaku's level, careful not to stumble in the sludge at the bottom. His feet stuck with every step, balancing with a hand on the other's shoulder as he steadied himself. "Be careful," Jikaku mumbled. Jouan could feel the muscles tense and relax underneath his palm, until he finally lifted his hand. Once Jikaku had pulled it all the way in, Jouan reached into the net himself to see what it had been.

His gloved fingers touched something slick, spindly and grimy. He shuddered, but continued to pull the thing free. He held the thing at arm’s length.

It was a bird. He'd grabbed the foot. It was still intact, but very dead, and very waterlogged. The smell of decomposition started to permeate the air. Jikaku started emptying out the net. 

Dead birds, dead fish, they all poured out. 

"Animals aren't all that common to see anymore, especially in the city. For this many to be here..."

"This area has been known previously for birds to roost," Jikaku supplied. "This must have been happening for a while."

Jouan dropped the carcass and shook off his fingers, disgusted. "All the more reason for us to be here."

Jikaku nodded. Jouan stared at the pile of dead birds and fish, taking pictures while Jikaku called out for his team to clear the waste from the river.

They regrouped with Houmei at the front of the building, who had gathered his own samples. They analyzed them with the portable lab the agents had brought, and to no one's surprise, they all came back positive.

The next step was to get inside the facility.

They had to get tools from one of the men's trucks to force open the locks that had rusted shut. The readings spiked when they opened the doors. 

_Warning: Hazardous_ flashed in his eye as they entered. Even with bioparts filtering the toxic environment, Jouan felt uncomfortable. Itchy, a little nauseous. Only he and Houmei were allowed inside, having the extra parts to handle any toxins that could absorb through the skin, if there was any.

It was empty, as far as they could see, just the skeleton of storage areas and dead control units, but there had to be something. When they closed it down, they should have properly disposed of all the waste, moving it to another facility, and as far as the government knew, had done so. The president of the E.O.R.A had been furious, Jouan's manager had said, in passing, as he was handed the details of the assignment. 

Which meant that somewhere, hidden, was forgotten waste. It seemed unlikely that agents would just leave and forget something like that, but it was before optic readings and more advanced detection technology. No one had stepped inside since it closed, years and years ago. 

They had followed their spiking readings and, after a few hours of scouting the vast building, found the leak. With how it was slowly being overgrown, the walls were cracking in their weakest areas, leading them to find an untouched storage area behind a wall, where containers of waste had slowly corroded and the liquid waste seeped through cracks along the walls.

Jouan and Houmei sent back their findings, and called in a hazardous waste team to move the containers and help clean the leakage.

Work continued from there, filing the reports, the photographs. It was disgusting. This was going to be a big project, and Jouan could smell the controversy.

Jikaku met them outside, when they had finished and allowed to go in and retrieve the waste. He smiled and gave them both a light shake of the shoulders when he approached. "Impressive work, boys. This is one tough case." Jouan leaned away, the unexpected touch causing a spark of warmth that he promptly ignored.

This case had definitely been different than handing resident notices. And far more productive, Jouan thought. 

"You're not going to work yet?" Houmei teased Jikaku. "I can't wait to see your impressive skills, too."

"Hey now, don't you start giving me a bad reputation," Jikaku warned, but his tone was light.

A sense of awkwardness crept over Jouan. Did these two know each other? "We should _all_ get working," Jouan said, breaking away from them to head to his car and strip off the heavy suit in exchange for the light shirt and slacks he had worn underneath. Jouan and Houmei could head back to E.O.R.A headquarters now to complete their paperwork, while Collections stayed and assisted the hazmat team with clean up.

Houmei followed him, and Jikaku saw them off. 

"Do you know him?" Jouan asked Houmei in a hushed voice, despite being alone together in the vehicle.

"Hmm." Houmei fiddled with the radio tuner, until Jouan told him to stop and pick one. "We've worked together a couple times. He's kind of eccentric, but he's a nice man."

Jouan snickered, looking straight at Houmei. "I know someone else who's eccentric."

"Oh, really?"

Jouan rolled his eyes and kept driving.

 

\----

 

Before the end of the day, he had to stop by the facility again. He'd forgotten to grab the portable lab before he left. His manager would have a fit if he couldn't get it back, lamenting their inventory.

He pulled up to the lot. It was well into the afternoon now, and the collection trucks and hazmat team were still there. Someone was sifting waste into the proper container, which had already been filled more than halfway. That was a lot of waste.

The portable lab hadn't been where he remembered leaving it. He circled the parking lot and nearby grassy area but found nothing. A worker came from behind one of the collection trucks and Jouan stopped him. "Excuse me, have you seen a suitcase-like object? I was here earlier, I'm an agent for the E.O.R.A," he tried to explain.

"No, sorry." The worker looked lost. "I'll check with the team leader though."

Jouan thanked him and waited for Jikaku, who trudged up from the riverside moments later.

"I forgot the lab," Jouan said, a little embarrassed. 

"Oh, don't worry." Jikaku pulled off his gloves and reached into the cab of his personal truck. "I saw it after you left, put it away here until I got back to HQ."

"Thanks." Jouan took the lab, relieved. "How's clean up going?"

"Going just fine, actually. Definitely a lot to get out of here though, the trucks are filling up."

"It is a lot." Jouan agreed. He stood there a bit, watching the removal, doing his best to ignore the stench from the trucks behind him, but he was cutting it close. He looked at Jikaku, who was watching too, then down at the case in his hands. "Well, I have to get going. Thanks again."

"See you around." Jikaku waved as he walked away.

 

\---

 

Jouan woke to the clap of thunder. He remained still, listening to the erratic rain brushing against the window. It was Saturday, and he didn’t have much to do, and he welcomed the storm after the pollution build up the last few days. Even though he was in his apartment, his detectors still picked up the chemical readings from outside. They had already significantly dropped since the evening before. The numbers and corresponding colors would materialize in the corner of his eye, like he was wearing a hi tech visor, except it was inside his eyeballs. It was good the levels were dropping, the orange numbers falling to yellow, though he guessed from the amount of smog, it was acid rain. He closed his eyes. Most of the time, that would make the readings go away. 

It wasn't until the day after next that he noticed something wrong. The numbers in his readings had stopped moving. He had walked outside to the recycle bins, and when he walked back in, the yellow numbers didn't change. They usually did, since the inside air was cleaner, being constantly filtered.

He knew something was really wrong when he accidentally dozed off on his couch, and when he opened his eyes again, there was nothing at all. It scared him. He went to his desk and ran the diagnostics he knew, the few they taught. He was scared, if the readings were malfunctioning like this, there was a possibility of it being more than just the optic tech.

Ridiculous, Jouan thought. That he was just dancing with the feeling to have those little lights gone even for a minute, but when they did disappear, he panicked instead. But the truth was they were a part of him, and had been for years. The reality of the stats was, if they stopped, something was wrong.

Nothing seemed to bring it back online, and that had to require a trip to the E.O.R.A maintenance center. But that had to wait until the work week started again. When this happened, they usually wanted agents to quarantine themselves as much as possible, in case it was a true filter malfunction. Going out without the filtering system could cause damage, making results harder to obtain.

Jouan sighed. He didn't want to be cooped up in his apartment the rest of the weekend.

Trying his best not to think about his technical issues, he went around and cared for his house plants, scrutinizing their condition, giving food and water, trimming dying blooms and branches. The colors and the work relaxed him. Eventually he ran out of plants to prune, and it was only late afternoon. Admiring their blossoms and greenery for a while, He glanced at the air pollution reports that always ran at the bottom of every channel, and it was odd, having to look at them for caution. It made him uncomfortable. Regardless, according to them, the air quality was decent enough to walk in unprotected.

Jouan had decided to treat himself that evening by stopping into one of his favored restaurants, classy atmosphere but the prices not too exorbitant. The waitress had seated him at a small table near the bar; he’d been absently observing the activity around him when he recognized Jikaku's voice. The last thing he expected was to see him at the bar--at the bar entertaining a young lady, one arm draped loosely around her waist. Jouan couldn’t make out their conversation, but they were laughing, drinks in their hands. 

He wore a black suit, dressed down with a white shirt underneath and the coat hanging open, impressing Jouan. It was the first time Jouan saw him in anything but his heavy working clothes, and to his own frustration, found himself following the angles of the suit against Jikaku's back. 

Pushing away his sudden distraction, he focused on what could have caused his malfunction. He'd been panicking at first, but the more he thought about it, he started to realize...

It would have had to been at the power plant. Was it possible for the pollution levels, the radiation, to have shot his system? Something like that hadn't happened before, not to him, not to any other E.O.R.A agent as far as he knew.

The waitress arrived with his dish: a large cut of baked salmon accompanied with a variety of vegetables. The fish came apart easily, steam rising from the pink meat inside. Combined with the taste of drink, it was a satisfying meal.

It wasn't long after he'd finished his plate that Jikaku left his place at the bar. Jouan caught him coming up, leaning back against the side of one of the bar stools. 

"I didn’t think I’d find you here, old man."

"Getting out is good for your health." Jikaku smiled. "Ahh, and still going with the old man thing? You’re making it sound a lot worse than it really is."

Jouan sneered. "Your eyebrows betray you."

Jikaku laughed. "Just wait, age will come for you, too. Entertaining anyone tonight?"

"Just myself," Jouan replied, paying at the mini kiosk sitting at the table.

"Hmm, then maybe you'd like to join me for an after-dinner smoke?"

"I don't smoke," Jouan said, disapproving. He prepared to brush Jikaku off, but it occurred to him that Jikaku was also present at the power plant. Was he affected, too?

"That's too bad," Jikaku said, "but I do understand. They want you to be perfectly healthy and all that."

"But-- I do have a question."

Jikaku reached in his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Well then, let's talk outside."

They stood underneath the awning at the waiting area just outside the door. Jikaku lit a cigarette.

Jouan was critical. "I'm surprised they let you do that."

Jikaku laughed. The more Jouan heard it the more mischievous it sounded. "I've been smoking for a long time. Honestly, I think the big bosses gave up a long time ago, as long as the bioparts function and the butts aren't left behind."

Jouan swallowed. "That's sort of my question."

"Hm?"

"Is your system running fine?"

Jikaku frowned. "That I'm aware of." He leaned forward then. "Is yours?"

"No." Jouan's voice was low and flat. "I'm not getting any pollution level readings." 

Jikaku exhaled, the cigarette smoke rising in a twirling cloud. "My guess is the power plant. You two agents went in first, bearing the brunt of it."

"Yeah, that's what I think, too. I ran the diagnostics I knew. Nothing." Jouan sighed, his nerves eating him, making him itch.

"Overloading is definitely possible. The filtering system may have shut down entirely, which is probably why normal diagnostics aren't working."

Whoa, wait. Jouan crossed his arms. "How do you know so much about bioparts?"

"I know a little about a lot of things." Jikaku laughed. "Besides, they're all built off the same base."

Jouan scowled, baffled by the sudden realization that Jikaku knew a lot more than how to retrieve garbage. Not even Jouan knew as much, nothing even as simple a fact as that.

"Anyway," Jikaku continued, "you may need replacement parts. Just head to the maintenance center in the morning, they'll get you sorted out. Definitely not life threatening, if you know the rules." He grinned.

Jouan relaxed, but the nausea in his stomach lingered. "Good to know, for a minute I was scared I might _die_ or something." The moment he said it triggered something in Jouan's memory. Those agents that had died--

Jouan turned back to Jikaku, words coming out fast. "The agents that have died recently, do you think it's from something similar? They went in an area so toxic it killed their systems and it affected them, and then they died?" 

Jikaku was silent, maybe thinking it over. Even he looked a little perplexed. "All right," Jikaku said, his expression changing. "I take that back; it might actually be life threatening. Of course, you still can't do anything until--"

"Shut up, old man!" The culmination of all of Jouan's thoughts and concerns came out in one anguished noise and he covered his face with his hands.

Jikaku stifled his laughter, reached over to pat Jouan's shoulder. "You'll be all right. You haven't died yet."

Jouan lifted his head. "Is it worth it? All we've been doing feels like it's worthless. No one cares. That damn river still fills with trash every day, no matter how many times I deliver notices, and nothing ever changes."

Jikaku had put out one cigarette and pulled out another, saying nothing as he lit up.

"I don't even know if those photos at the E.O.R.A are even achievable, or even real." Jouan wanted to show the whole world those photos, like it could change people's minds, but the organization would rather not share.

"I feel that," Jikaku began. "I can't say there's never been a worthless effort, but I wouldn't say that yours is worthless, nor anyone else's in this organization.

"Most, like you, haven't seen anything better than this." Jikaku waved at the world around them. "And so, a lot don't know any better. Hell, even I barely remember a city not shrouded in smog all the time. This job is hard, but that's why we're the ones doing it. No one else stepped up.

"Everything has its place. Trust me, it's not worthless."

Damn. Jouan hadn't been expecting something motivational, just another sly remark. "Thanks for the pep talk." It was appreciated. Jouan couldn't tell if he'd just accepted his fate or had been validated by Jikaku's words, but he was much calmer, and much less sick.

"Anytime." Jikaku tapped off cigarette ashes.

Jouan moved to leave. He needed to be getting back, but he stopped to tell Jikaku one last thing. "By the way, that suit looks good on you."

"Ha! Same to you."

 

\---

 

Jouan rocked on his heels as he waited. He never had to go in for a full maintenance exam before, only for updates to the technology. He wasn't nervous. He'd imagined it would be like the first exams he had to take after waking up from the original surgeries.

They were old memories, but unforgettable. It was funny, because sometimes he had trouble remembering certain things before they changed him. They were blurry, indistinct. 

They'd taken him and cut him open in all different places, implanting chips and bionics to the point that he, and each other agent, could be a fully self-functioning detecting and filtering system. Science created a new hybrid.

It sounded bad, putting it in its simplest terms. Maybe it was bad, Jouan considered, but it was all over now, and had only hurt a little. Even regular residents had the option for certain implants now. If they had the money, of course. Jouan thought of the missing eyes from the dead agent.

He was brought to the diagnostics room, where he sat on the examination table.

Five minutes later, Jikaku walked through the door.

Jouan nearly jumped off the table. "I--Th--You--" Syllables fell out of his mouth, before he finally grasped a sentence. "You've got to be kidding."

Jikaku held up both hands. "Surprise, ha ha. Though it's the last one."

"Do you mind explaining? I'd really like that."

"I'm a bioengineer. And I do Collections."

"Holy shit. Okay. Was the lab just too boring for you?"

"Collections is more productive than waiting for biopart approval. I'd never say you can't lay back, but sometimes there's too much waiting."

Jouan touched his fingertips to his arm, where he knew there were sensors inside. "You designed all of this?"

"Not everything, mostly the beta models and newer, smaller pieces, but I'm still good at maintenance, so they let me do that." Jikaku chuckled. "Oh, and I did let the president and CEO know about your hypothesis concerning the agents who died. They’ll be looking into it soon, hopefully."

Jouan stared. It was the only thing he could do. He thought back to all the conversations they'd had, and it all clicked together. Thinking back, knowing what he knew now, he was humbled now, and maybe embarrassed. He told the guy he looked good in a suit--God, stupid.

"Now, we should probably get started." Jikaku changed the topic, slipping on gloves and warming up the equipment. Jouan let him poke and prod his skin. His touches were warm and firm, and Jouan didn't mind it as much as he'd thought. Able to do nothing but look at the white ceiling or the portable scanner Jikaku had begun to pass over his body, his mind ended up conjuring the image of the night before. 

He did his best to avoid eye contact.

"We're not getting any signals," Jikaku confirmed. "You're shot. Some chips will have to be replaced, at least. I'll know more when I get in there."

They had to cut Jouan's arms open, removing each burnt sensor and chip, and setting a new one, a steady process. Jouan couldn't look at the work being done, but Jikaku talked him through each step they made, while he settled for following the movement of Jikaku's shoulders.

He was still reeling from Jikaku's reveal, his multiple careers. He'd garnered a new appreciation, respect, for the older man since the conversation outside the restaurant, and with this--Jouan couldn't find the words. 

In the end, he received all new parts with a higher handling capacity, hopefully solving any short circuiting issues for a while. He had to stay out of the field for several days as his new parts adjusted, and was restricted to the office. It was a boring experience with the exception of all the times Houmei strolled by looking for chatter. Houmei had the procedure right after him, and they ruled their office wing for three days. Jouan caught up on a lot of paperwork. His desk hadn't been so clear in months.

At the end of the third day, Jikaku paid Jouan a visit. He noticed Jikaku wore another dress-casual outfit. When the guy wanted to, he knew how to dress. Jouan was suspicious, and maybe a little nervous, though he'd never admit it. He pretended to be busy at the computer. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, no." Jikaku stroked his chin. "I was wondering if you'd care to join me for a drink?"

"Why?"

"You're starting back in the field tomorrow, right? Just for a little celebration, a good time."

Jouan's pulse quickened at the invitation. He feigned indifference. "I guess I have a little time for a drink."

"That's the spirit."

Jikaku had ushered him out of headquarters and they found themselves at the restaurant where they had met several days before. They sat at the far corner of the bar with sake and rose wine, and spent an hour swapping stories from their years on the job. 

There was a lull in the conversation, and while he was enjoying himself, he was curious. "You know, Jikaku, I do appreciate this, but you don’t think that going back to my full work is really something worth having drinks?"

"Then how about a 'Jouan Didn't Die' celebration?"

Jouan choked on his wine. "All right, old timer, that's enough. What is it, really? Besides, don't you have some ladies to entertain?"

"You work so hard, learn to relax." And then Jikaku smiled, slow, and it reminded Jouan of a trickster character. "I entertain everyone."

The atmosphere around them changed, Jouan felt it, understood it, like a spark that left the air warm. Tension rose and it left Jouan picking at the grooves in the maplewood bar with his fingernails. Jikaku was just as cool as he'd always been. What a smooth bastard.

"Well, that's nice to know," Jouan said carefully. The conversation died again, only now it was painful. "Do...you want to go somewhere? Besides the bar, I mean."

"Just know that, being an 'old man,' you probably won't be able to keep me out too late--"

He was cracking his jokes, even now. "All right, all right, look--my apartment is honestly just a few blocks down. How about that?"

Jikaku pursed his lips, looking extra thoughtful. Whether it was just theatrics or he was thinking seriously, Jouan didn't even know.

But those few seconds were all he needed. "Why not?"

 

\-----

 

The bedroom door swung closed without a sound, but the tapping of their shoes against the floor was loud in Jouan's ears. He reached for the lamp mounted on the far wall, and a warm glow enveloped the room.

Tense with anticipation, Jouan stood and watched as Jikaku began to strip off his clothes. First came the outer coat, the sleek fabric whispering as it was discarded, then his tie. In two fluid motions he loosened the knot, his fingers deftly undoing the tie until he could slip it off with a quick tug. It joined the coat on the floor, the belt right after. Jouan followed every move, watched the clothes pile up, his lips pressed into a thin line and his stomach tight.

Jikaku had started on the buttons of his shirt, but Jouan reached up to stop him. "Um, if it's all right--" he paused to breathe-- "we can skip this part, you know?" He gestured to the bed, wanting for that firm touch, anywhere those hands would go.

The corner of Jikaku's mouth turned up into that mischievous smile Jouan had seen at the bar. In one swift motion, Jikaku was leading him to the bed. Jouan's legs hit the mattress and they fell into it, pressing close and creating a steady rhythm. Jikaku's hands slipped underneath Jouan's shirt and Jouan sighed, eyes closed, the languid strokes adding to the pleasure. So good, so good. His arousal strained in his slacks and he reached between them, unzipping both their pants. Jouan pushed into the friction with a breathy moan as he pumped Jikaku's dick. He felt Jikaku falter, then the thrusts came harder, the gesture returned.

They began to grind, and Jouan mouthed Jikaku's skin, from his jaw and down, down, their hair tickling his face. He heard Jikaku groan, the sound sending electricity down his body.

The build was slow, but Jouan enjoyed every move. The friction, the press of lips against skin, the way their clothes chafed, until everything spilled over, climax taking both of them.

 

\----

 

Someone was calling him, but it was hard to open his eyes. His limbs were tangled in the bed sheets, warm and comforting. He almost let sleep take him back, but then remembered that he still had company. Wild, how this all played out, but it wasn't bad, he thought. Maybe it turned out all right.

He forced himself awake, groaning against the ache in his shoulders. The weak morning light shone through the window, casting dim light on the wall. Jikaku was there, leaning on the sill with a cigarette in his hand, his clothes draping over his figure, hanging loose. The window was open.

The window was open?

That realization alone had him sitting up. "Are you trying to kill my plants?" He thought of his poor rhododendrons.

Jikaku had turned and gestured for him to come to the window. "They'll be fine. You should come look before it's gone."

Jouan sat, confused, but climbed out from beneath the covers, wincing as his bare feet touched the cold wood floor. "What is it?" He slinked up behind Jikaku, leaning over his shoulder to look, and he felt his jaw slack.

The sun, just above the horizon, shone from behind impressive clouds, casting rays across the morning sky. It was so clear, Jouan couldn't recall a time he'd seen something close. It wasn't perfect, not like the photographs from the E.O.R.A's folders, but the sky wasn't overcast, and the city's tallest buildings, still dark, touched the pale sunbeams, something he was sure no one had seen in years. The only blemish was the constant numbers and air status, always in the corner of his eye.

"The smog will settle back in soon." Jikaku put his cigarette to his lips, the smoke drifting out with the weak breeze. Peaceful was the word that came to Jouan's mind. "But, see? Can't say it's never worth it, can you?"

Jouan didn't look away, wanted to imprint the landscape he saw in his brain. He shook his head. "No..." He reached for his phone and wordlessly snapped a picture. Jikaku leaned over his shoulder to see how it turned out. He nodded approval as Jouan smiled.

Jouan kept the photo open on his device while watching the sky slowly change. Jikaku stood next to him and watched with him, their shoulders touching in the small window space.

Eventually, the smog did return, just as the sun rose above the horizon. The world returned to itself, hazy and gray, and they had to shut the window.

"I'll start coffee," Jouan offered, pattering down the stairs to the kitchen, much more energized than he'd been feeling earlier. "We have a lot of work ahead of us."


End file.
